


might write a song about you tonight

by sirenic (noctiphany)



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, chanyeol is a bartender, kris is a rapper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:59:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/sirenic
Summary: In which Kris is a famous rapper and Chanyeol is a bartender/aspiring indie rock singer and hates everything, especially Kris Wu.





	might write a song about you tonight

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: chanyeol/kris, rich boy
> 
> title, obviously, from Deserve by Kris Wu ft Travis Scott

Chanyeol doesn't really listen to rap. He's heard of Kris Wu, obviously, knows a few of his songs because they play them in the club all the time, but Chanyeol’s style is more indie rock. He likes his acoustic guitar, the way Baekhyun's shitty drum set sounds in the shed they built to practice in. He likes to sing, make his voice do that whiny, warbly thing. He tried rapping one night with Baekhyun, bored out of their minds and drunk as fuck, and they swore to never speak of it again.

But honestly, it’s that he’s not that big of a fan of rappers. He knows that makes him kind of an asshole, but he's met quite a few of them since working at the club and they're exhausting with all their cars and necklaces and designer tennis shoes and too many girls to count. Maybe that still makes him an asshole, but that's just how he is. Baek tells him all the time that's why no one else ever wants to hang out with him, but Chanyeol can't change who he is. He tried, once. It didn't take. Some people, he thinks, are just assholes.

Kris Wu is a fucking asshole.

Kris Wu has silver _and_ gold necklaces and white, designer tennis shoes. He drove up in a fucking Bugatti Divo and has not one, but two hot girls with him, one for each arm. Chanyeol hates him on sight.

He hates him all night too, watching their private table from across the room, all the girls who throw themselves at Kris, the endless rounds of shots and whiskey that keep getting magically refilled at their table. He hates how he can tell it's just all a show, just a way to flaunt how much money he has, how famous he is. He hates how when Kris catches him glaring at him from behind the bar, he smirks, and something hot twists in Chanyeol's belly.

 

: : :

 

"Hey."

When Chanyeol turns around, he isn't expecting Kris Wu to be standing on the other side of the bar. His gaudy glasses are on his head now, pushing his hair back, and Chanyeol thinks _wow_ when he sees his eyes.

"Don't you have a private table," he mutters and goes back to cleaning the glasses.

"Uh huh," Kris says and Chanyeol wasn't expecting his voice to be...like that. Dark, deep. But soft, too. "Needed a breather. Can I get a water?"

"Jongin," Chanyeol calls. "Help him, it's my break."  He just barely catches the smirk that flashes across Kris' face before he walks off.

 

: : :

 

"What the fuck," Chanyeol snaps when he looks up and sees those stupid yellow tinted glasses again. "Are you stalking me?"

Kris laughs, the full moon reflecting in his eyes. Chanyeol had stepped out back to check his messages on his break since he doesn't get good service in the club and apparently he has a shadow. There is a fountain of booze and a pile of incredibly hot girls at his very expensive private table inside the club, it makes no sense.

"You really don't give a fuck, do you?"

"About?" Chanyeol squints at him.

Kris reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, lights it up and stares at Chanyeol as he takes a drag from it. "Who I am."

"Don't know," Chanyeol says. "Who are you?"

Kris laughs again, greyish smoke filling the air between them, and Chanyeol hates the way he laughs.

No. He hates that he doesn't hate it. He hates that Kris Wu up close isn’t really anything like the Kris Wu he sees on tv or in music videos or even the one he’s been watching in the club all night. He hates surprises.

“I’m Kris,” Kris says, smiling faintly, as if Chanyeol really didn’t know, then flicks his cigarette to the side. “What’s your name?”

Chanyeol swallows, eyes dropping to Kris’ mouth, then back up to his eyes. It’s a toss-up which is prettier. “Chanyeol.”

Kris smiles again and this time it reaches his eyes. “You ever ride in a Bugatti, Chanyeol?”

  
: : :

  
Chanyeol has never ridden in a Bugatti before. He’s also never gotten his dick sucked at three in the morning by a famous rapper whose latest album just went triple platinum.

They only get a few blocks from the club before Kris pulls the car into a dark, empty parking lot and nearly climbs across the car to kiss him. He’s hungry for it, needy, but trying not to be, and Chanyeol eats it up. He runs his fingers through Kris’ hair, squeezes the back of his neck, and swallows down the pretty, pretty sounds Kris’ pretty voice makes for him. He expects --- Well, honestly, Chanyeol hadn’t expected any of this, but he definitely doesn’t expect Kris to grope him through his jeans and murmur in his ear, “You ever gotten a blowjob in a Bugatti before, Chanyeol?”

Sometimes, Chanyeol can be an asshole. Sometimes, he feels like he fucking hates everything and everybody. But when he goes back inside the club after Kris drops him off, knowing the phone in his back pocket has Kris’ number in it, Chanyeol thinks, _I don’t hate this._

 


End file.
